Sláinte!!! Happy St. Patrick's Day!
keep your itchy fingers to yerself, lads, I am wearing my green, and I already consumed my share of Irish food and music last night. Yes, there will be more tonight, don't you worry! I plan to break more than a few strings and at least one bow and one heart tonight! :-d
I am celebrating this morning by listening to Moia Brennan, and a collection of some of my other favorite artists, including Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh, The Red hot Chili Pipers, (yes that's an actual band), and good old Capercaillie (even though they are Scottish.) I love my celtic music! Nothing makes me smile more than a good hot fiddler, wooden flutes and the cry of the pipes, a sexy harper, crazy drumming that makes you want to get up and dance, and those accents!!! *jigging around to Drowsy Maggy and Silver Spear*
*Trips over sleeping Guide Dog, and crash-lands to earth with an unpleasant bump*
Oops, , sorry, I'm back. Was getting lost a little bit, there. *picks self up and sits back at computer with a saucy wink and an Irish smile* but hey, that's why I made this music my life. Wouldn't you???
Okay, I promise, I did have something productive to say in this post aside from giddiness over the holiday and its accompanying return to my roots (Scottish, not Irish!!!) Okay, this time, I'm really done... IT's just, how often do I really get to let my red hair down and celebrate like the Celt I am at heart? Allow me my fun or go "boil yer heads, the lot o' ya!" thanks, Hagrid. :)
Okay, back to the blog. this past week found me sick, but with a perpetual smile glued to my lips. remember last post where I talked about "doing the dream?" Things have been falling into place all over my life. Not that things were drastically out of place when I started the Artist's Way, but... it's back to that "once chance, twice coincidence, three times conspiracy" theory I wrote of last week. too many things are happening that lead me to the conclusion that my artistic pathway is exploding into full fruition! (Wow, and you can't tell from that last sentence that I am a hippy and a sagittarius, can you? That sounds too artsy/philosophical almost even for me! But hey, it's the truth. I'll own it.)
This week I'll be signed to a production contract I've waited over two years to get. patience, hard work, and perseverance do pay off! Producing a good friend is one thing; producing someone you believe in with all your heart and soul, and know will go to the top like a rocket is quite something else entirely. I can't say more until the contracts are inked and on record, but this project means the world to me, and I'm so grateful this chance has come my way.
I was thinking a lot this past week of the chances we are given in life. Last night I was at a Church function with a friend. We were done with the class and the meal, and were sitting around chatting near the end of the event, when a gentleman approached my friend, and in a very soft voice, began to tell her he had heard of a woman in China who recently regained her sight after having lived most of her life as a blind person. He leaned close to my friend and told her he'd find the information for her and that there was probably help for me.
I bit my tongue and looked away. I've heard this so many times, but it still brings up a mix of emotions for me. I appreciate the fact that they feel compeled to help me. I'm grateful they care enough to want the best for my life. But if they stopped and took the time to learn about who I really am, they would know that A: I hear a conversation taking place about me five feet away... and B: my life is hard, but beautiful, and I would rather they, like me, find hope and strength in my blindness instead of fear and pity. If I do get the chance to get my sight back someday, I may take it, but for now, I wouldn't change that part of myself. I've learned to live with it, and in many ways, to love it.
Part of me wanted to speak up in anger and say "Don't feel sorry for me! Don't judge me and pity me! and don't talk about me as if I'm deaf and unaware of what you are saying!" Another part of me wanted to reach out and touch the man and say "Thank you for caring, and god bless you." Still another part wanted to say "I wish you really could grasp how wonderful my life is, and how my blindness is truly a God-given blessing." Really deep down, I just wanted to crawl under the table and hide... why do I have to be singled out wherever I go? Can't I just enjoy an evening with friends without being stared at in horror?
But my heart really went out to my friend. She listened, thanked him for his concern, and said there was no hope that I'd get my sight back. "But I don't think she minds," she said.
At this point, I did speak up. I hate butting into conversation, but when it's about you, and your friend is on the spot... "I wouldn't change the way God made me," I told him. And that's the honest truth of it.
A few weeks ago a good friend was visiting me. She's never really had the chance to explore Los Angeles, and she decided not to rent a car. Whether her intention was to save money, or to live like me for a few days, we wound up taking public transit all over the city together. This is a daily regularity for me, but I think it was a shock of reality for her. More than once she got fed up with the long waits and the people sharing the trains and buses with us.
Yes, I do my share of getting annoyed, too. It just comes with the territory. Buses will not fail to be late on the mornings you're early. They will pass you when you have a business meeting you have to be on time for. You will step onto a crowded train after a long day of work, and all you want is to find quiet and solitude, and some homeless stinky man will come and insist on praying over you and ranting about saving your poor blinded soul. The driver will not call the stops on a new route, or I'll wind up getting lost because I got off at the wrong stop in an unfamiliar part of town. All of these things have happened to me more than once. It's just life on the public transit systems of west coast, spread-out, car-crazy cities like Los Angeles and Phoenix.
But those pain-in-the-ass public transit systems constitute my freedom, too. I can't just run out to the car in the driveway and go anywhere I want like you probably can, but I do have the luxury of independently traveling anywhere I want to go in this city, so long as public transit goes there! Kodak and I can handle anything this crazy city throws at us, and we usually enjoy the challenge. I love public transit, purely for the fact that it's my link to my independence and my freedom. I could sit there and wish things were better, or I could take what's in front of me, use it to the best of my ability, and do all I personally can to make it better. It really is that simple, in my estimation. I could sit at home all day afraid of getting lost, afraid of the weirdos haunting the unsafe streets. I could wait around for someone to come and take me everywhere I want to go on their time table... or, I could get up, and go explore this really cool city I'm lucky enough to live in. Who knows what cool people I'll meet or the new fun places I'll stumble into when I do get lost? (that part, sooner or later, is inevitable.) I can take precautions against the bad guys by carrying a cell phone, letting people know where I'm at and when I'll be back, and knowing how to fight back. And most of all, I can go when I want, and not ask anyone else to be responsible for my life.
Please do me a favor and remind me of the fact that I wrote this when I get home and whine about a really bad bus experience. I have to go back and forth to a conference in west L.A. every day this week. Two-and-a-half hours each way... that's five hours on public transit every day for the next four days... lucky, lucky me! But hey, I'm going to do the only thing I can! Be grateful that the conference is happening, and that I don't need to rely on anyone except L.A. metro to get there! *crossing fingers*
Ultimately, the circumstances we find ourselves in boil down like this: in essence, you can take what you're given and see the negative, or the positive. It may not be convenient, fast, easy or luxurious to travel on the trains and buses, but at least I'm getting there in the end. I may be blind, but at least I'm alive and doing what I love. There are a lot of people who go through life cheating themselves, never doing what truly makes them happy. I'm lucky enough to have the chance to make music for a living, to be doing what I was born to do. Being blind is hard, yes, in many ways, but it's also made me a wiser, stronger, more open-minded, gentle person. I've learned to be tough, and to never quit just because something is hard. Life is only as hard as you make it out to be; I've tested that statement, and found it to be so true. I'm learning every day to look for the good in every situation, and let the negative go. Why dwell on the bad things when there really is so much good in every chance we're given, even if it isn't readily visible to the naked eye? You may have to work for it, wait for it, pray for it, and hurt for it, but in the end... if you look, you'll find the good side.
So, you guessed it! Your turn. Have you ever had something really bad happen to you that ultimately made you stronger, or wiser or better in some way? What things help you see the bright side? have you ever had one of those moments where you're sitting there and you wish people looked at who you were, not what you were? Please, share those stories with others around you, and help them to understand that it's not what we're afflicted with in life, it's how we deal with it that really makes a difference!
Now lads, go find a comely little lassie, and have yerselve's a turn or two... and lassies... run like the devil and be the keeper of yer virtue! :-d
Slaitcagh, (Gaelic for cheers) to all! *raises glass to you* To your good fortune, your hard work, and your wonderful chances! *dances off with a twinkle in her green eye*
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